Down in Tasmania they're about to start distilling a corn mash whiskey and a triple distilled Irish-style one, and here farmer and sand and ice sculptor Peter Bignell is using his own rye to distill spirit on a still he built himself. This is new white spirit made with 100 percent rye and bottled at 40%. It's more pastis than whiskey, a soft licorice and aniseed alcopop which is way too drinkable. A rising star. $AUS 99/500ml

Reviewed by: Dominic Roskrow (Winter 2011)

An odd touch of the roasted-grain smell of the dryhouse here, then youthful whiskey underneath it: sweet, mint, barrel. Flavors tumble across the tongue: cocoa, mint, coconut, grass, and a bit of spice. This is six months in the barrel, and it's good for that; I also like that it's all Montana-grown grain. But you have to wonder what it will be like after another four years.

Reviewed by: Lew Bryson (Winter 2011)

Nant is everything an idyllic island distillery should be, sited in the wilds of Tasmania with a smart visitor center and a bar that overlooks the rolling, rugged countryside. The whiskey, though, is surprisingly gentle and soft. There is an overly simplistic sweet sherry version, but this gutsier, berry-soaked, sweet and rounded version is the one to watch. It's a work in progress, but the cleanliness and flavor development hint at great things. Watch this space. $AUS 190/500 ml

Reviewed by: Dominic Roskrow (Winter 2011)

Shy is the word. Pale in color, again suggestive of little cask interaction. There’s a little hint of white currant and light cereal, delicate and fragile — more fragile than the Balmenach — with a little touch of white chocolate. As it opens, out comes violet. The mouth is tense, as if everything is still baled up, even after all this time. Very light acidity gives a certain freshness that water doesn’t shake loose. Simply not enough cask. £67

Reviewed by: Dave Broom (Winter 2011)

Touches of acetone and magic marker/solvent suggest that there’s precious little cask involvement going on here. Pleasing enough, with lime jelly and kiwi fruits, and a little whiff of sweet oak, but it’s very understated. In the mouth, it performs in a nutty way but doesn’t seem to have moved much over its quarter of a century sequestration. There is some horchata and brazil nut, even a mashy note, but it either needs more time or a kick to get it moving. £70

Reviewed by: Dave Broom (Winter 2011)

Barely-aged white whiskey. Light, sharp fruit (brighter than the High West Single Malt), a brittle sweetness, new-make greenness. Quite smooth, even a bit creamy, with a light float of vanilla and a hit of grain in the middle. It all wafts away on a razor-edged cloud of a finish. Smooth for a white, but I'd like more substance.

Reviewed by: Lew Bryson (Winter 2011)

Hellyers Road is Tasmania's biggest distillery, formed by dairy producers who feared the island's dairy business was under threat from mainland producers and needed a fallback policy. Early bottlings were dreadful, but this is a big step forward. It's still an acquired taste, though, with rootsy, vegetal, and grassy Scottish Lowland elements. It's saved by a cocoa powder, mint chocolate, and puff pastry heart. $AUS 120

Reviewed by: Dominic Roskrow (Winter 2011)

Young, but dark; this one's finished in sherry barrels. Peppery, sweet, fruity aromas make it hard to separate the whiskey from the sherry influence. Lots of sherry wood in the mouth, too; oily, waxy, but the whiskey comes through clearly now, with sheaves of rye rolling across the tongue. The sherry is too heavy-handed, it has more presence than it should. Maybe more blending of un-sherried whiskey would work.

Reviewed by: Lew Bryson (Winter 2011)

The least exciting or distinctive of the Santis range and in some ways the most Germanic and European, with a soft, sweet, and rounded taste that, depending on your point of view, is either flabby and ill-defined, or delightfully soft and cushion-like; the whisky equivalent of eating a milk chocolate bar with a honeycomb center. €32

Reviewed by: Dominic Roskrow (Winter 2011)

There's a medicinal, darkroom aroma right up front, and a dry graininess (with just a dusting of baker's chocolate) to the nose. It carries through in the mouth, with a faintly chemical astringency that takes away from the underlying corn sweetness. Very hot finish. Water helps bring more sweetness out a bit, but cuts some of the body out from under.

Reviewed by: Lew Bryson (Winter 2011)

It does say “whisky” on the label...followed by “with natural cinnamon flavor.” It's clear from the first sniff that this is a one-trick pony: hot, fiery cinnamon. But is there whisky flavor in there? Fireball's as sweet as the liqueur proof would indicate, and as hot as advertised, and there's only a hint of whisky character under the fire. A novelty for tailgating; probably great in hot chocolate.

Reviewed by: Lew Bryson (Winter 2011)